


Something Terrible Is Afoot

by ProtoChan



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Embarrassment, Feet Licking, Gen, Humiliation, Situational Humiliation, Torture, Vomiting, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-06
Updated: 2019-08-06
Packaged: 2020-08-10 11:42:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20134894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ProtoChan/pseuds/ProtoChan
Summary: Gold likes having Killian’s heart far too much for Killian’s liking. Much to his chagrin, his captor takes any and every opportunity he can to revel in his continued misery. It’s clearly not enough to now have control over Killian’s very life -- no, he needs to make him suffer like it’s going out of style. So much of Gold’s torture has caused Killian pain and guilt that will go on to haunt him for the rest of his life, but this latest whim inspires something else in him -- pure disgust and humiliation. Missing scene from 4A.





	Something Terrible Is Afoot

**Author's Note:**

> Why do I like torturing this guy so much? I love this character and want him to be happy, so why do I also want to make him suffer the most degrading and terrible acts I can possibly imagine at the behest and whims of the one person he despises most in this world? *Shrugs* I dunno, but it’s fun, and you depraved lot seem to like it too, so here we go again, I guess.

As Killian was pushed into Gold’s Pawn Shop for the umpteenth time since his heart was stolen, he decided that there was no place worse in the world to be.

Long John Silver’s ship, Neverland, and all of the worst places his life of piracy took him to had nothing on the unadulterated unease that just the sign of that one store brought to his every nerve.

And regardless of his feelings -- probably because of them, even -- until either Gold ended his life or Emma saved it, Killian would be forced to return to this most accursed shop as many times as his crocodile wanted him to.

Small pulses of his heart greeted Killian as he walked through the door. By all accounts, the routine of suffering Killian had become accustomed to should’ve made the squeezes less painful, but Gold had switched up the rhythms of his squeezes, leaving Killian completely unprepared.

Gold stood behind his countertop, grinning that crocodile grin Killian had come to despise with everything that he was. Oh how Killian wanted to wipe it off his face and stab it with his hook until it resembled cheese more than it did any kind of a being’s face.

But the very heart in Gold’s hand, alongside his jailer’s immortality, prevented him from doing so.

“What torture have you planned for me now?” Killian grit.

A terrible glint overcame Gold’s eyes. “I prefer the term ‘fun.’”

“You would,” Killian shot back.

“And I do. So to help you have that same fun, I’ll make you wait a bit for your answer.”

Killian knew it wouldn’t be a terribly long wait, but that wait would be agonizing in and of itself.

“In the meantime, go into the back room and sit on the floor. There will be a space for you against one of the walls.”

Without saying a word, Killian followed the demand. He looked Gold in the eye, trying to parse something out of him, but Gold merely kept up that grin and threatening Killian with his heart to not attempt retalization.

Just as Gold said there would be, there was one patch of free space against a wall amidst all the clutter that fit him perfectly. Had he not known that whatever Gold had in mind for him would be harrowing to say the least or if it had come from anyone else, he would find such an action charming.

Sitting down, Killian searched the room with his eyes. It frustrated him that Gold made him sit against the harsh floor when there was a cot just across the room.

Still, he supposed he should be grateful. After all, floors provided stability and after all Gold put him through thus far, stability was not something to be taken lightly in the face of yet another round of abuse.

Killian suddenly felt something brush up against his knuckle and hook. He looked behind him and downwards. Close to the floor though still on the wall were two small handles, both big enough to fit select parts of his body.

By now, Killian was well aware that Gold was to order him to grip those handles with his hand and hook. Still, Killian would wait for the order. The last thing he’d do was show his crocodile any level of resignation to his whims. He may be forced to play the role of a pet, but he wouldn’t do a single command before it was given, no matter how much physical pain it might save himself to do so.

Gold would have too much fun if he did.

As he waited, Killian continued to listen to his surroundings. It didn’t take long before he realized that something was incredibly strange. Everything in Killian’s vicinity was much too quiet for his liking -- at least when it came to Gold. Normally, when Gold had a vile plot, Killian would hear the shifting of magical artifacts or papers or something like that, but instead, all was quiet, with not even a footstep to create a bit of noise. It was frankly disconcerting.

Had Gold done that on purpose to ‘psyche him out,’ as Emma often put it?

He wouldn’t be surprised if that was the case.

Things remained like that for nearly ten minutes, ten minutes that crawled by like a tranquilized sloth. Killian couldn’t decide whether it was better for his air of defiance to keep his eyes on the passage between the two rooms where he could show Gold his lack of fear or the floor so he could show a lack of concern for whatever was to come. The decision caused him to switch back and forth every few minutes. Eventually, he settled on facing the door.

After all, it was braver to meet one’s maker -- no matter how metaphorical -- head on, right?

When Gold surfaced from the front of the shop, he made the decision Killian mulled over seem so trivial and humiliating, as he practically ignored Killian entirely upon walking into the room with only those squeezes against his heart as evidence that he registered Killian’s presence at all.

“Put your hand and hook through the handles and don’t let go until I give I tell you so,” he said, as casually as if he were explaining safety instructions without so much as a glance Killian’s way.

Killian obeyed, all the while clenching his jaw.

Was Gold truly so predictable?

Finally, once Killian’s hand and hook were secured, Gold acknowledged him.

“Very good,” he said with an aggravatingly calm demeanor.

Gold then lifted the wooden chair from behind his desk. He placed it in front of Killian and sat down. Killian and Gold looked at each other, the irony of their height differences in this particular position not lost on Killian.

And Killian doubted that irony was lost at all on Gold -- hell, he’d wager that Gold had designed it with that thought in mind.

How dull.

Well, that was one means of being the bigger man, Killian supposed.

It’s not like he’d ever get there the right way.

“How much longer am I to endure this ‘fun’ of yours, crocodile?” Killian asked, his tone as curt as an emergency brake.

“Why, until I tell you you’re done, of course.”

“What do you want from me?”

“Me?” Gold asked, smiling at his own rhetoric. “I just want to talk. We never talk.”

“For good reason.”

Clearly ignoring the comment, Gold continued, still using that placid tone of his that put Killian even more on edge than if he actually acted like himself. “Do you want to hear about my day?”

“I’ve a feeling that my choice is rather irrelevant.”

Gold pat his head condescendingly. “Look at who's getting smart. Sometimes you surprise me, captain.”

“Get on with it,” Killian spat, refusing to dignify Gold’s quip.

Gold shook his head from side to side in amusement.

“As you wish,” he said. “Well, first, I started off my morning with some exercise -- a walk across the beach to get the old bones moving. You know that well, old man.”

Killian growled at the appropriation of Emma’s teasings at his age. 

Nothing of his that belonged to Emma -- not even those age jokes -- had any business being touched by him of all people.

“It’s so nice feeling the sand between my toes. With all that happens in this town, it’s great to take a moment enjoy some of its natural beauty. We’re so blessed here with such a beautiful community.”

“Get on with it, crocodile!” Killian ordered, unable to keep the harshness out of his voice.

That choice of tone earned him a steep ramming of Gold’s fingers into his heart and gave Gold Killian’s first shout of the day.

“And so I then did some gardening,” Gold continued, as if the interruption never happened. “If there’s anything better than sand on the feet -- it’s good old fashioned soil.”

“Beg to differ,” Killian muttered.

Gold clicked his tongue. “You would, but it’s far less rocky than sand. Next, I cleaned up the bathroom. Now don’t tell Belle this, but even as my maid, her cleanliness always left something to be desired. You wouldn’t believe how poor of a job she does, bless her heart. But love makes us overlook so much.”

“The same seems to apply to Belle if she married your wretched soul.”

Killian knew the tight squeeze of his heart was coming, but he didn’t expect it to be even a fraction as bad as it was. He was sure he’d topple over had it not been for Gold’s order to stay in place and for a moment, he wondered -- and slightly hoped -- that Gold had squeezed too hard and actually killed him.

But no -- he was alive and at Gold’s mercy -- or whatever his crocodile deemed mercy to be.

“You don’t talk about my wife that way,” Gold hissed, standing up from his chair and bringing his face uncomfortably close to Killian’s.

Liam always warned Killian about his rebellious streak. Killian hadn’t listened then, and he had no intention of listening now.

“Belle’s not the problem there, mate.”

Gold glared at him, but within a moment, he calmed himself and sat back down, serenely smiling by the time he was fully back in place.

“Afterwards, I went down to my basement and squashed a few bugs. It’s always nice tidying up the house.”

“Or destroying the meek for you, likely,” Killian mocked.

“Either way -- it makes my home that much happier. Then, I decided to make my oldest friend that much happier. So I put on my shoes, got dressed, came over here, and called you over. Lovely sounding day, wasn’t it?”

“Perfect,” Killian snipped. “So why tell me about your disgusting goings on? You’re hardly one for idle chit chat.”

“Because after such a long list of chores, I find myself wanting some soothing for my aching feet.”

“What? Am I to give you a foot rub?” Killian asked, his eyes already rolling at the likely predicted response to his inquiry.

But oh -- what he’d give to be right in his assessment compared to the next words to leave his captor’s mouth.

“No, I was thinking something a little...different…”

Killian felt his heart -- for as distant as it currently was -- race.

“D-different how?” He wanted to punch himself for the stutter of his voice -- or Gold for causing it -- but with his hand forcefully occupied, he could only live with and suffer his own humiliation.

Gold was clearly having a field day with it.

“I see the way you kiss Miss Swan and I must say, that tongue of yours -- your whole mouth really -- seems to work wonders on her. I’d like to see -- or rather, feel -- for myself its many talents, if you would.”

The implication was understood instantly, and downright cemented as Gold removed his shoe, now brandishing one of his bare grimy feet and making haste to do the same with the other one.

Looking between Gold and his feet, Killian scrunched his features before a light panic took over. 

“Crocodile...you can’t be serious.”

“Ah come, captain,” Gold smirked. “You should know better now than to ever doubt me.”

Killian gazed at the feet, now both prominently stretched out in front of him less than two inches from his face. A vile stench came off of them that had his eyes watering and all manner of gunk, dirt, dust, and bugs seemed to be wedged in between the crevices of his toes and along their lengths.

And Killian was about to be forced to help himself to all that they had to offer.

Gold was grinning and Killian felt his breath shorten from sheer disgust.

Only his crocodile could demand something so demeaning of him...and be merciless enough to watch it all play out with hungry eyes.

Gods, what was he thinking imagining Gold as anything but utterly and sadistically unpredictable?

Now, almost more than ever throughout this heartless endeavor, was he truly in for it.

The next four words delivered were sharp as they came out but spoken as if they were as succulent to say as a freshly picked peach was to eat.

“Lick my feet clean.”

Killian’s mouth was on the largest ball of Gold’s left foot before he could so much as groan in protest.

However Killian expected his crocodile’s foot to feel on his tongue -- the actuality was so much worse. 

Gold gave him no space to take in the foot on his own terms, pushing it and Killian’s tongue together like two halves of a sticky sandwich. Killian’s mouth -- helpless to do anything but open in the face of its new companion -- was overpowered immediately with three of his crocodile’s toes wiggling between his teeth and tickling his gums. He could feel his tongue trying to pull back, forced by Gold’s control to continue on with its miserable task.

It felt like Killian was making out with Gold’s foot. 

By all accounts, he was.

He’d had some awful things touch his mouth in his day, but never had something pushed him so close to getting sick on impact as this foot, but here it was in all of its rank, murky, and sweaty glory that was all his to endure.

And of course, Gold kept playing with his heart like an instrument the whole while with a slow rhythm that made Killian think of the softest of waltzes.

It was too bad that it didn’t feel soft.

Gold’s appendage had a leathery texture, allowing for everything it had encompassed today to fall off at the barest of contact with Killian’s saliva.

If there was ever a time for Killian to wish to be parched, it was now.

But he was far from parched, and Gold’s feet were eager to take all Killian could be forced to give, and more thanks to his frustratingly functional salivary glands.

There were a couple of ants in the mix of all the much, but one bug stuck out from all the others. The form of a small roach slunk down from the space around Gold’s big toe and hit the bottom of Killian’s jaw, making him moan with repugnance. He was sure it was dead, but the rocking of his mouth from attempting to do his sickening errand made it almost feel alive as Killian pushed it towards his throat. His teeth instinctually started to chatter, but a demand from Gold brought that to a swift end.

There was a twisted sense of victory when the roach finally went down, now a problem for his stomach.

Oh God…

He had just willingly swallowed a bug that had been hiding in Gold’s feet for what must’ve been hours!

How would he be able to live with himself -- at least, for the limited time he had left to live?

Licking the space between Gold’s toes of all things was a surprising challenge. His toes wiggled around, battering Killian’s tongue at every turn, as if they were trying not to be cleaned. Killian had no doubt in his mind that was intentional. 

After all, why wouldn’t Gold extend his time with his play thing? Only a person with a shred of decency would do that, and Gold was just about the furthest thing in this world from decent.

It took nearly ten minutes, but Killian managed to lick clean the entirety of his starting area, front and back. He pulled his head back -- something Gold in all his ‘kindness’ actually allowed him to do -- and started on the next section.

“You know,” Gold chuckled, “I like you like this -- quiet, subservient, obedient. It’s a good look on you -- but maybe not a good smell.”

Killian didn’t look at him, but glared at the accursed feet that quite literally held his tongue.

When Killian was halfway through the second section, Gold slung his right foot atop his left one’s ankle.

If Killian’s nose wasn’t already saturated by the pungent odor of a day’s worth of Gold’s putrid activities...it was now…

With the reflexes of a flinch, Killian whined at the action. He could feel Gold not only smiling, but positively beaming at him as he worked, all but burning a hole in his head.

Why couldn’t Killian be so lucky?

The next twenty minutes were spent in agony as Killian licked Gold’s left foot -- front and back, as Gold would regularly remind him to do. Small bugs and piles of sand the size of sugar packets fell into his mouth and as he couldn’t see anything that was to come, each new discovery of what monstrosities of nature Gold’s foot help was one horrifying adventure after another, and Gold so obviously took glee in every single one of them.

When he was at last done with the left foot, Killian pulled back, taking as many deep breaths as he could, just in case Gold forced him to immediately take on the other one. 

Instead though, Gold took the opportunity to gaze at his handiwork. 

“Not bad,” he joked. “I see what Miss Swan sees in you. That tongue of yours -- when it’s not talking -- is indeed gifted.”

Between a cough that attempted to clear out his sandy, dirty, stinky mouth, Killian glared at Gold.

“Glad to see you’re so impressed,” he muttered.

Gold smirked at him. “Truly, I am. It’s a shame you have to die. I could get used to this.”

“Of course, you would take pleasure in something so depraved.”

“Don’t act like you wouldn’t do the same in my position.”

Killian wanted to say that he wouldn’t, but after spending half an hour sucking on Gold’s foot, he couldn’t honestly say so.

“Now,” Gold continued, “I think you’ve had enough of a break. Get back to work.”

Gold had Killian start at the base of his foot this time. His foot was plagued with callouses, causing Killian’s tongue to constantly be slowed down, if not outright halted by its popping grooves. Most of the gunk outside of his toes was there too, causing the whole stretch of that ordeal to take even longer. He’d been prepared for it after his similar dealings with the left foot, but that didn’t make the job pleasant by any stretch of the imagination. 

The curves of Gold’s ankles provided something of an easy time after he was done with the ball, and once he was done there, he moved up.

And after that, he moved up again and then again and again.

Killian did what he could to keep his sanity in one piece. This whole process was disgusting beyond belief, but soon, he would be done.

Soon, he could finish this up, go back to his room at Granny’s, and make out with a bottle of mouthwash instead of Gold’s feet.

Soon, he’d be able to put this particular nightmare behind him and go onto treasure the limited time he had left with Emma.

Soon, no matter what his fate would be, this would all be over.

Finally, he was approaching the end, two of Gold’s filthy toes licked clean and only three of them and the upper ball of his foot left. 

Killian could feel the end coming and he could not be more relieved.

But then, Gold eyed him in that awful way he could always be counted on to do.

If there was one thing that Killian Jones knew with any level of certainty, it was that when his crocodile eyed him that way, that meant that he was about to play dirty -- and Killian wasn’t referring to the grime that currently infested his mouth.

Suddenly and without any true warning, Gold pushed his foot further into Killian’s mouth, even more so than before. His big toe led the charge, pushing Killian’s tongue against his uvula. It wasn’t long before the two were squished together like an envelope and a postage stamp.

Killian knew enough about anatomy to understand what was to happen next. He could only hope that his stomach was up to the challenge of keeping his innards where they belonged.

It wasn’t.

No protest apart from a garble could be made as Killian began to vomit up his dinner.

It wasn’t a large amount of food and thankfully -- despite its repugnance -- much of it did stay inside his mouth, but a fair amount of it did drench the floor and worse, Gold’s foot.

Gold grimaced in disgust, but after a moment, he smirked.

“Well, lucky you,” he said. “Looks like your fun isn’t over quite yet.”

No…

He was so close to being done with this…

But his tongue was already back to work before he could resonate it.

The mix of vomit and toe grime was a rare combination -- and for good reason. It resulted in a stew that almost made Killian sick again. Only a resolve to not allow himself to be forced to spend even more time with his mouth attached to Gold’s foot kept whatever food was still in his belly in place.

Both feet were touched by the vomit -- not a lot, granted -- but they were touched nonetheless and that was enough to tell Killian that there was no way he’d get out of this without cleaning Gold of his bodily excrements completely.

So with his hope destroyed once more, Killian focused once more on his little project from hell itself.

After a minute of cleaning up his own vomit in the most tasteless of ways, Killian heard Gold speak.

“Look up at me.”

Killian’s head -- alongside the foot inside it and the vomit that covered them both -- snapped up so he met Gold’s eyes.

What he saw made him wish it didn’t.

Gold had his cell phone out.

“Smile.” 

Within seconds of that latest command, Killian heard the unmistakable click of a camera.

The bastard had actually taken a picture -- and he’d gotten Killian to smile for it.

Killian didn’t know why he was surprised. Of course the crocodile would want a photograph of this atrocity…

How could Killian possibly think he wouldn’t?

The amount of humiliation Killian realized he could feel in such a small amount of time was astounding and now he knew that a part of that humiliation would exist with his most hated foe now and forevermore.

His own death was starting to become less of a tragedy and more of a release from this torture Gold had thrust him into…

And it wasn’t over yet...

No, it wasn’t over yet by a long shot, and Gold would make him see it through to the very end with one incredibly entertained audience member watching his every move.

Killian groaned, and what came out of Gold’s throat resembled his Enchanted Forest self more than anything Killian had seen of him in this realm.

Well over an hour passed before Killian was finally finished with Gold’s foot. When he was at last completed beyond the barest shred of doubt, he spat out the limb.

“Rude,” Gold remarked as he gazed at his foot.

“You’ve no right to call me rude after that, crocodile,” Killian growled.

Gold smirked, something Killian was growing just as familiar with as he was growing tired of. 

“Touchy, touchy,” he teased, grabbing Killian’s hair in the fist not in charge of his heart. Just as he pulled Killian’s darkly colored locks, he treated Killian to a squeeze that took his breath away in all of the wrong ways. “You forgot your vomit on the floor!” he barked, pushing Killian’s face towards the floor.

...So much for the usefulness of stability.

Cleaning his sickness on the floor was horribly painful. With his hand and hook still bound to the handles, all the strain of his bending was forced upon Killian’s poor back. It was an awful process, but fortunately, not a terribly long one either.

When he was done, Killian raised himself, taking deep breaths.

“I’m done,” Killian called out. He hated that he did, for Gold was still right next to him, not even a full foot away. 

Just how low could he possibly sink in one evening?

Killian wasn’t sure if that question was meant for Gold or for himself.

“Good. Very good. You did a nice job, and we had fun.”

Killian was about to protest to the notion that he had anything even remotely resembling fun with this transgression of his dignity, but he could see Gold holding his heart out of the corner of his eye and thought better than to speak.

Even for all his defiance, every so often, a man had to realize the worth of choosing his battles.

And Killian had enough of a war for one day.   
  


“I must say you’re becoming quite the delightful puppet,” Gold went on to say. “I almost don’t want to bring our time together to an end. But alas, like I tell everyone, all magic comes with a price, and you, dearie, are a worthy price for my eternal freedom.”

Killian’s knuckle whitened as it clenched around the handle he was still forced to hold.

“Can I go now?” he grit.

Gold smiled. “Of course.” Killian stood up and collected himself as best as he could. He turned his back to take those first blissful -- or as blissful as they could be considering everything -- steps away from the pawn shop when suddenly, he felt his heart pressed. “Before you go though, to make sure you don’t forget this fun memory of ours so soon, do me a favor and don’t clean that incredibly useful mouth of yours for the rest of the day. Enjoy the taste of my feet without the distractions of mouthwash, mints, or toothpaste. Sound good?”

“No.”

“Perfect. See you tomorrow.” Killian, barely able to control a shaking sensation that was fighting what was left of his composure, hastened to leave the store, but Gold’s voice once more gave him pause. “And of course,” he said, “mum's the word regarding this visit.”

Killian didn’t answer -- not that it would’ve made a difference.

All that mattered was the knowledge that far too many nightmares of his for the rest of his life would revolve around a pair of demonic feet and the accursed pawn shop where they resided, and Killian had never feared sleep more because of it.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Review if it suits your fancy, but if not, have a great day!!!


End file.
